Tangled Weave
by Aikee
Summary: Life had never been normal, but it had been predictable. Then crazy relatives sent me into a world I never knew existed. The insanity increased as I discovered the connections I had to this extraordinary place. Perhaps traditional is overrated. Strong AU.
1. An Interview

At 10:50 AM someone knocked on my door. Right on time, as Grandmother used to say. I agree.

The girl who walked in, informing me of a million little things all at once, probably without her even knowing. For example, her pale complexion, along with thick, stick-straight black hair and unique eye shape let me know that she at least had relatives in the East, if not from there herself. Her style of dress was conservatively Western, which confirmed this-not too modern, yet acceptable in the Khoáng marketplace. Her shoes-flats-let me know that she was practical. Good.

It was also clearly obvious that the girl was extremely nervous, to the point where she was just barely shaking. Clearly I have mastered the intimidation factor, though I am sure I am nowhere near the level of Ed, much less Grandmother. She should be thanking her lucky stars she doesn't have to meet with Grandmother in her prime, or Eddie while in the middle of his twisted reasoning....no matter.

As I reached out to shake her right hand, I noticed bite mark scarring-several on her left hand, evenly spaced, just barely slanted, and with a slight yellow tinge, which meant she was a dragon trainer. This girl not only was from the East, but heralded from Opal City, which was about the only place one could receive a Dratini without getting worse than mere bites. You can learn much more about a person through their Pokemon than you can with physical details, and only the Dratini family leave those distinctive yellow marks.

While she was obviously not a devoted trainer, professional researcher, or even back in the highly secretive town tending wounded Pokemon while their trainers goofed off in the snack bar, Dratini must be received, not caught. And while Elder 'Ken' might give good little trainers sweets, he most definitely does not give his precious babes away to those trainers. A score of qualities must be met, and the absence of even one disqualifies you for the gift. A calm temperament, firm opinions, a gentle yet firm hand when dealing with conflict, logic and reason....thankfully all good qualities here at Rocket Shipping.

Her handshake was firm-either she did have the calm interior required to train temperamental Pokemon, or she was working off of off-island training. She looked too young to have both trained a Dratini and gone to the mainland, so inside that trembling nervous exterior must be some bit of calm.

How will she react....professionally cool, I said, "Welcome. Do you have your papers.....?"

As she scrambled for her papers-no, that is the wrong term. Nervousness had made her hands less agile than they might otherwise have been, but the simple bag she had brought with her was well-organized and neat, which marked her as someone who had never been on the road as a trainer. Interesting. I had to ask, "Do you still have your Dratini with you here in the city?"

Her reaction was hilarious-mouth dropped, eyes wide, folder with papers clearly forgotten. I gave her a full minute, after which I coughed politely, and watched as her cheeks turned beet red.

Gah. Acute observational skills are immensely useful when face to face with someone who might slaughter you and your team, but never "You did receive warning about how I tend to ask incisive questions, correct? And I do still need to see...."

Her blush went redder, if possible. "Oh! I am sorry....it was a shock, you see-I haven't told many about Draco. I wish he were here, but I left him with relatives back home. He was a gift." She handed over the folder-black, with simple brass fittings. Not at all original, much like...Draco? Imagination was never a required attribute for Ken. Also, relatives? Relatives mean well, but....it is the case of leaving the pet home for a summer, and finding it has 'run away'.

Perhaps I should drop by in the near future and suggest its addition to the exam. If nothing else, I'll get an excellent cup of tea and some homemade berry drops.

Returning the attention to the folder I had just been handed, I commented, "Well, when you are confirmed for the position you wish to acquire, you will have the funds for a gym patronage. I'm sure you know that Cape Coral is only a short distance east of here, and I am sure Sam would love another playmate.

She gasped a little. "Sam? You surely mean-"

Hmm. I was right on her being from Hisui.

"-Gym Leader Solomon? And that is if I get the position, after all-"

I had opened the folder, suppressing an involuntary smile at the white sheets of paper. Dear Grandmother had instituted a policy of meeting with any potential candidate for an upper level post within the company. Grandmother used it to intimidate. Ed used it to intimidate and force them into 'confidentiality.' I used it to learn.

Wrong on her never being on the road-her trainer record showed that she spend three months out of her first trainer year on the road, made here about and had even managed to snag an insignia against Whitney. Not particularly difficult, but still impressive. Even more so considering she managed to keep a sense of neatness. Those who have been on the road for longer than a month turn into pack rats.

"-it has been said that you are incredibly strict, and I've only got a fraction-"

Good credentials. She spent the rest of her year with a for-hire accountant in various small towns, and those recommendations seemed to be promising if I wanted to take the chance to read them. Now down to family records....

"-of experience compared to some of your accountants. And I'm-"

What the hell-no wonder she left Draco with relatives. Her great uncle was bloody old Ken. To think I have been dating another relative of hers on and off for years.

Time to halt the chatterbox effect.

I held up a hand. "Stop. I call him Sam because we are friends. Your credentials are more than enough. And the fact that Ken trusted a family member with a Dratini, as evidenced by marks on your hand where Draco probably got you when he wasn't used to handling, says more than your credentials. He is ten times more difficult with family than with guests. Something about hospitality."

She sat a minute, then, "Thank you."

Good. She recognized the compliment. I asked, "Do you have any questions?"

I don't think she was thinking clearly-for her sake, I hope she wasn't-when she blurted out, "Why do you always wear black?" Almost immediately, she realized the question, and shrunk back in her chair.

I grinned. "Woman to woman, it's because I'm the only one who can get away with it."

She relaxed a bit, then-"Well, thank you, and I-"

I chose to interrupt- "Yes yes, and your Draco too. Now get going-you have a new office to mark as your own, and an uncle to call to arrange for transport of Draco."

After she bid a final farewell ("I won't let you down!"-only more elegantly put.) I sat back, brought my hands to my forehead, and sighed.

If only......


	2. If Only

If only....

If only people made connections.

To connect _the _Virginia Giovanni, economic leader of an independent island nation, with Ginny, an introverted but determined mainlander who was reached the highest honor a trainer may experience while in the competitive circuit.

The same Ginny who figured in one of the largest scandals that island nation ever experienced.

Or the true connection between Rocket Inc. and our island. Many have guessed, but if the girl who had just left my office had cared to ask where our paper comes from....she would have uncovered an entire second, exclusive world of which she knows nothing about.

Unless I chose to lie, which of course would be the logical option. Ignorance is bliss.

Or of the connection between two respected Elders, the former head of a team of criminals, a certain 'haunted' island, a matching 'haunted' mansion on Ruby Rock, and how all those involved held either convenient doctorates in science or resources outside of the island.

How Gary Oake, one of the youngest appointed gym leaders since Lance became the youngest Elite Four member, looks more like Elder Agatha than his father, Professor Samuel. And how he inherited her battle personality to the very last detail.

How Lance seems to disappear from the public eye whenever there is a crisis looming on the horizon, obvious to those who know where to look for it.

How there is always steak at the Summer Fling, even though strict regulations on the slaughter of animals render any side of meat more expensive than a basic trainer getup.

How delicately the world the islanders live in is balanced, and how little they know of the outside world, and how much less the outside world knows of us.

The outside world could use some pointers as well.

If only the girl had asked "Where did you come from? How did you get this position? Why did you know to look for markings on my left hand?" While it would have exceeded the 10 minutes allotted for our interview, she would have heard quite the saga.

I'm not just a President for the top shipping group, nor just a 'criminal' mastermind.

If only she had asked.

If only I felt the urge to tell the truth.

If only...


	3. A Scant Biography

If only Mother hadn't been such a free spirit.

Granted, I've had fun. I've seen and done things people only dream about. But that came with nightmares as well, and sometimes I wish I had been born to a decent stereotypical family-one mother, one father, a sibling or two for variety. Definitely a dog, perhaps a cat.

However, Mother was gorgeous, which was the first error in that plan. Second, she was an heiress. Also a problem. Third, she was a free spirit, and went off looking for herself more than most people spend going to and from work.

Finally, she was a ditz. This is most evident in her greatest creation, a joint effort with a man she hooked up with in Reno, married at a drive through chapel, and spend a drunken weekend with before he disappeared, leaving a note and a pocket watch.

When a month or so later she declared to her family that her creation was about to be born in eight months, her parents cut her off without a cent.

We would probably be living in a fifth floor walkup in the Bronx were it not for my father's parents.

Luckily or unluckily, the mysterious father had parents. Wealthy parents. Old money parents, the kind who shunned Mom's parents as 'new money', even though the Reeds had been around for four generations. The Edwards had been around since the War of 1812.

So, the Edwards- Michael and Angelique- agreed to take Mom and I in. They would finance all that their wayward daughter-in-law might wish to do, in exchange for one thing. They wanted to be in charge of my education. Mom agreed-with no job, no experience, and no money, she had few options, and this was comfortable.

I was born. Joy. When I was five I received my first pony, ten, my first mare. Grandfather taught me to ride. Riding turned into a favorite hobby as Mother returned to finding herself, taking months off from the task of being a parent to travel to France, Rome, and Egypt. She would return for a week or two, then take off again.

When I started junior high, Grandmother placed me in St. Matthews, a refined boarding school for young society ladies. Thankfully I was able to handle advanced coursework and membership on the equestrian team, as well as the many social tangles found when you put a bunch of emotionally driven girls in a building together and let them run amuck.

I graduated fourth in my class, and at the age of 17 was looking for a suitable college. I had found a couple, and even toured them with Grandmother, but she seemed to be looking for something other than teacher to student ratios, or excellent architecture.

If only I had known what she was looking for. I might have pulled a Mom and run away.


End file.
